


Chances

by wordywarrior



Category: Marvel Adventures: Avengers, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordywarrior/pseuds/wordywarrior
Summary: Summary: Was it a chance meeting or was it fate?





	Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Song-Fic: “Chances” – Backstreet Boys  
> Warnings: Language and fluff. All the damn fluff.

 

__

 

_What if I’d never run into you? What if you’d never smiled at me?_  
What if I hadn’t noticed you, too?  
And you’d never showed up where I happened to be?  
What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this,  
On a quiet night; what are the odds?  
What’s a guy like me doing in a place like this;  
I could have just walked by.  
Who would have thought?

On a Saturday night, there should have been people out shopping, going to dinner, seeing movies, and stumbling in and out of clubs, but streets normally full of traffic and noise were eerily silent. Mother nature was having her way with the city and the inch-per-hour snowfall had made a serious impact. There was too much snow on the ground for anyone to drive safely and it was too cold to walk anywhere.

Any sane person would have gotten supplies, hunkered down, and waited for the storm to pass, but Bucky had never claimed to be sane, and he was pretty sure that ship sailed long ago.

Bucky was moving along at a relatively steady clip when he heard music, and as he headed further down the sidewalk, the melody became familiar. He’d been so busy trying to discern exactly where the sound was coming from and where he heard the tune that he didn’t realize he’d actually plowed into someone.

“Shit, sorry!” a muffled, feminine voice called out.

Bucky was poised to apologize and tell her it was his fault, but a door to his left opened, light and warmth spilled out, and he was momentarily dumbstruck. Bucky watched as the woman he’d nearly knocked over shuffled to the door, but before going inside, she turned back around, pulled her scarf away from her face, and grinned at him.  
“You coming in?”

_What are the chances that we’d end up dancing;_  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
That I could have found you, put my arms around you;  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
What are the chances?

Bucky didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but something about the way she smiled at him made him follow her inside. He had no idea what kind of establishment he was walking into, and if he’d had, he probably wouldn’t have entered. The place was set up like a club from the 1940’s, and as the big-band music started up again, memories and feelings Bucky knew were best left alone began to fill his head.

In his day, men wore their best suits and women wore their fanciest dresses, and while nobody was adhering to the fashion of the time, they were all swing dancing to the blaring music. Dance halls had stopped being his type of place long ago and he wanted to leave as soon as he’d entered, but before he could, she appeared again, holding up shots of whiskey.

“One to get rid of the chill,” she said. “And one as an apology.”

When they’d run into each other on the sidewalk, Bucky hadn’t really paid attention to anything beyond her smile, but he was definitely paying attention now. She’d shed her winter garb, which meant he could see her, and what he saw made him swallow hard.

Her eyes were shining, warm, and dark enough to get lost in. The high, pink color on her cheeks made her look sweet and approachable, but the curves of her body, wildness of her wavy, blonde hair, and the plushness of her lips were all pure dollops of sin.

She was stunning and Bucky was floored.

“You made it!” a male voice called out loudly.

Bucky saw two hands that weren’t his own grab her hips. When she didn’t protest, he didn’t step in, but for some reason, he still didn’t like it. When the man said he needed to steal her away, Bucky kept his expression blank, and simply nodded.

“Here,” she said, leaning forward to hand him the two, small glasses. “Sorry again!”

Not knowing what else to do, he took the drinks, and downed them both. The alcohol burned him, but not half as much as watching her rush off to dance with someone else.

_What if I hadn’t asked for your name_  
And time hadn’t stopped when you said it to me?  
Of all of the plans that I could have made.  
Of all of the nights that I couldn’t sleep.  
What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, in a crowded room;  
What are the odds?  
What’s a guy like me doing in a place like this;  
Getting close to you, but here we are.

The stark contrast of where he’d been to where he was now was startling. Outside, it had been silent and cold, but in the club, it was stifling and loud as hell. The band alternated between jazz and swing, and threw in a couple of slow ones in along the way, but no matter what tune they played, the room never stopped vibrating.

The last time Bucky had been in a place like this, war had been imminent, men overseas were dying, and dancing was one of the few distractions left. But as always, times changed, and so did people, and here, in this moment, everyone was genuinely having fun. Though the band was good and the beer was even better, Bucky couldn’t pretend he stayed because of the ambiance.

He stayed because she stayed.

Bucky knew it was rude to stare, so, he forced himself to avert his gaze. He turned back toward the bar and ordered another beer; the bartender had just slid the bottle over to him when Bucky heard her call out that she would have two of the same.

Knowing he would probably never have another chance, let alone ever see her again, Bucky took a deep breath and turned to get her attention, but he hadn’t expected her to be already facing him and sporting that damn heart-stopping grin again.

“Isn’t the band great?” she asked.

“Yeah, they’re not too bad,” he agreed.

“Drummer needs to watch his tempo, though,” she asserted, nodding in thanks when the bartender handed over the beers and her change. “Or else the singer and sax player are going to need oxygen.”

“And so will I,” someone interjected. “I think I might be dying.”

“Oh, poor you,” she teased, turning to hand over a bottle. “Can’t keep up?”

He grunted and took his drink, “I need to hit the gym before you give me a heart attack.”

“Maybe you should have more sex with your boyfriend,” she shot back. “The cardio will help and it’s more fun than a treadmill.”

Bucky choked on his beer, but managed not to spew it everywhere.

“I feel like I should say sorry again,” she said, her tone full of amusement.

He wiped his chin and shook his head, “I’m fine.”

“Who’s this?”

Bucky turned in his stool; he didn’t bother introducing himself to her friend, but instead, held out a hand to her, offered his name, and asked hers in return.

“Y/N,” she replied with a smile.

There was a long moment where they simply stared at one another and he swore the whole world stopped on a dime.

“Well, I’m Ben, but you can just call me Superfluous,” her friend joked. “Now, don’t take this as a come on, but you look like a man with stamina, and I could use a break. Go dance with my friend, please.”

_What are the chances that we’d end up dancing;_  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
That I could have found you, put my arms around you;  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
What are the chances?

Bucky was pretty sure Y/N was giving him some sort of contact high.

And he sincerely hoped to never come down from it.

The band played several fast songs, most of which Y/N danced with him, but she did save a few for Ben. While the band was on break, the three of them took up a table, and fell into conversation. The more Bucky learned about her, the more fascinated he became, and once he got out of his own way, he slowly opened up to Y/N, which was something he hadn’t done with anyone other than Steve in a very, very long time.

“Nick texted,” Ben said, letting out a sigh. “He said he’s safe.”

Y/N nodded her head toward the door, “And he’s here.”

The new arrival was Ben’s boyfriend, and after the three of them exchanged hugs introduced him to Bucky, they all took their seats, and ordered another round.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” Nick stated.

Bucky froze with his beer half way to his mouth; he hadn’t realized it, but he’d put his arm around the back of Y/N’s chair, and she was sitting rather close to him. He glanced at her nervously, unsure of how to navigate the literal landmine they’d somehow unintentionally stepped on, but unlike him, she wasn’t fazed.

“We just met a few hours ago when I almost knocked him down on the sidewalk,” Y/N stated factually. “We’ve been dancing and talking, but I don’t think it counts as dating.”

“It might not,” Nick agreed, glancing between the two of them. “But it does sound like the beginning of a love story.”

Ben elbowed him hard in the ribs, “You seriously have foot-in-mouth syndrome.”

Nick smiled, leaned in, and kissed him, “I love you, too, honey.”

When the band returned for their final set, they began with a slow song, and Ben and Nick immediately got to their feet. Bucky watched Y/N watching them, and once again, his heart stuttered. As the slow song morphed into another even slower, Nick gestured for them to join in.

“How long have you known them?” he asked as he spun her around.

“I grew up with Ben,” Y/N replied when she returned to his arms. “And I work with Nick. I introduced them.”

“Ah, so, you played matchmaker.”

She laughed and shrugged lightly, “Ben crashed one of our company Christmas parties – showed up completely wasted and dressed as Santa. I’d never seen Nick more amused. They just sort of gravitated toward each other and by the end of the night, Nick was sitting on Ben’s lap, and they were exchanging gifts – if you take my meaning.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, “That sounds crazy.”

“Oh, it definitely was,” Y/N agreed. “But all it took was one, chance meeting, and now, they’ll be together for the rest of their lives.”

“How do you know?” Bucky wondered as he gave her another twirl.

“Because it was fate. And love is fate made manifest.”

He brought her back into his arms and dipped her slowly, “Do you really believe that?”

“Don’t you?”

_Is it love? Is it fate? Who am I? Who’s to say?_  
Don’t know exactly what it means.  
Is it love? Is it fate? Where it leads, who can say?  
Maybe you and I were meant to be.  
What are the chances that we’d end up dancing;  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
That I could have found you, put my arms around you;  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
What are the chances? Like two in a million, like once in a life?

When Y/N and Bucky stepped back out into the snow after closing, Nick and Ben bid them farewell, and they were suddenly alone. He was reluctant to see the evening end, and her proclaiming she was starving was like being thrown a lifeline. Bucky told her knew a place a few blocks away that served breakfast twenty-four hours, and when Y/N said she’d never been there, he offered to take her.

It took them nearly a half hour to trek through the snow, and when they arrived, they were both in need of food and something hot to drink. Bucky ordered a cup of coffee and Y/N asked for a hot chocolate with every marshmallow they could give her. The waiter appeared a few minutes later with their drinks and to take their order.

Bucky ordered his usual while Y/N squared her shoulders and closed her eyes. He watched as she made a circle in the air with her finger a few times before finally landing it on the menu and reading off her choice.

“Is that how you order everywhere you go?”

She picked up her mug and blew across the top of it, “When I go someplace new, yes.”

He sipped his coffee, “What if you don’t like it?”

“As I said before – I believe in fate,” Y/N replied simply. “Besides, it’s breakfast. How could I not like it?”

It was that response alone that made up Bucky’s mind – he was going to marry this woman, and the more they talked, the more certain he became.

Over the next several hours, Bucky felt himself being turned inside out, examined, and put right back together again. Y/N never once chided away from him or his brutal honesty, and she never minced words or evaded a question. He was deeply scarred, she was gorgeously flawed, and they talked about it all; the good and bad, the ugly and beautiful, and the happy and sad, and by the time the sun came up, Bucky was wrapped around her finger.

Though he was content to keep her with him as long as possible, Bucky knew Y/N was tired; she’d been muffling her yawns for over an hour, so, instead of being selfish and letting her nod off at the table, Bucky asked for the check. Once he paid the bill, he helped her into her coat, and they headed back out into the cold.

“Shit,” she rasped when her boots slipped.

Bucky immediately reached out a hand and placed it on her elbow to steady her. He offered to see her safely home, and when she accepted, they made their way to her apartment. Y/N slid every few steps, and when Bucky asked how someone so graceful on the dance floor could be so clumsy in the snow, she huffed, and gripped his arm.

“This isn’t snow – it’s ice,” Y/N told him. “And I’m not an ice-skater.”

Bucky laughed as they turned onto her street, “Which one?”

“The fourth on the right. You know, the one with the ice all over it.”

After telling her he wouldn’t let her fall, they continued on, and made it up the steps and into her building without further incident. Y/N went to the elevator, pushed the button, and unwound the scarf from her neck. They exchanged numbers and made promises to call. She thanked him for a good time and for breakfast, and as Y/N stepped inside and hit the button for her floor, he stepped back, and said goodbye.

Once Y/N was out of sight, he turned to leave, and let out a low curse; while she had been programming his number into her phone, he’d held her scarf for her, and forgot to give it back. Bucky was getting ready to text her and ask her to come back down when his phone pinged.  
You have my scarf. - Y/N

She followed up her text with her apartment number, and Bucky was sure he’d never been so impatient or more nervous. When he arrived at Y/N’s door, his hands were shaking, but he managed to knock, and when she answered, she took the scarf from his hand, looped it around his neck, and used it to pull him into her apartment.

“This is crazy,” Y/N said quietly. “But I’m not afraid to give fate a little nudge.”

Bucky seized her hips with both hands and kicked the door shut, “Meaning?”

She grinned and stood on her tiptoes, “Meaning kiss me, you damn fool.”

_What are the chances that we’d end up dancing;_  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
That I could have found you, put my arms around you;  
Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
What are the chances? Like two in a million, like once in a life?  
What if I’d never run into you?  
And what if you’d never smiled at me?

**Two Years Later…**

“You’re ready,” he insisted as he released her hands and backed up slowly. “See, you got it – you’re doing fine.”

“No, Bucky! I swear, if you don’t get your ass back over here…”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, skating forward and taking her hands again.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Y/N bit out between clenched teeth. “Blades that could literally kill me are strapped to my feet, and below that, there is concussion-inducing ice. Who the fuck willingly does this kind of crazy shit?”

It had been two years since they’d run into each other that night at the club and helped fate along. Twenty-four months since their first dance, first kiss, and the first time they made love. Seven hundred and thirty days since discovering she had a mouth like a sailor, hogged the bed, and enjoyed combing his hair for him after he showered. One million, fifty-one thousand and two-hundred minutes consisting of dancing together, moving in together, laughing and crying together, learning and growing together, and doing much crazier shit than ice-skating together.

The contact high had definitely not worn off, and for Bucky, it never would.

“I can’t,” Y/N squeaked as she looked down at her skates. “I seriously – I can’t.”

Bucky crooked a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes, “How about I make you a deal? If you make it around the rink one time, we’ll cancel dinner, and go dancing instead.”

“Are you bribing me?” she asked in a faux, scandalized tone.

With the carrot dangled, Bucky grinned, and slowly released her hands; her eyes went wide with alarm, but she didn’t cry out or demand he return to her. Bucky made sure to stay close enough to catch her just in case she fell, and though Y/N used the toe-pick more than necessary, she made it around the rink without stopping or falling.

Bucky watched as Y/N’s confidence boosted and she went around twice more all on her own. She kept a careful, steady pace, and after declaring she’d had enough for one day, Bucky pulled her into his arms, kissed her soundly, and told her he was proud of her. Once they had their boots back on and the skates returned, they headed for the club, and as soon as they arrived at their destination, he stopped, and turned to face her.

“Before we go in, I want to ask you something.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin, “I already told you – I’m not going skydiving. I love you and trust you with my life, but I’m still not doing it. It’s just too fucking crazy.”

“Well, what I want to ask you is actually crazier,” Bucky replied lowly.

“Just how crazy are we talking?” Y/N inquired hesitantly.

Bucky spent weeks planning the proposal; skating around the tree at Rockefeller center, breakfast at the first restaurant they’d eaten at, and then, going home, turning on some music, and popping the question while they slow danced in the living room.

Of course, all of Bucky’s plans had gone to shit, which was why he stopped in front of the place where they met, and went down on one knee in the snow. He knew he would never forget the look on her face when he offered the ring – how her mouth parted in surprise, the way her eyes glowed, how her cheeks were flushed with the cold – but most of all, he would never forget how she positively beamed at him.

“I know I’m a damn fool, but I’m your fool,” Bucky said as he took her left hand, removed the glove, and slipped the ring on her finger. “I’m yours, Y/N, and I’d like go on being yours for the rest of my life.”

Y/N said yes, leaned down, and kissed him. Bucky could hear people applauding and whistling, and when he rose to his feet, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and buried her face in his neck.

“Too crazy?” he whispered in her ear.

She looked up at him and smiled, “Fate is never crazy.”


End file.
